


misfortunes never come singly

by nap_princess



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Crack, DJ H4N5 in the house!!!, F/M, Happy Ending, Helsa Week, Helsa Week 2020, Humour, IT'S HELSAWEEK AND I CHOOSE CRACK, Kristoff being a bro, Modern AU, Princess Anna has a TikTok account, crackhead energy to the max, idiots to lovers, €L$A
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23766970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nap_princess/pseuds/nap_princess
Summary: It'sTikTok's fault!— DJ H4N5 feat €L$A(Helsa Week 2020 — Day 2: Modern AU)
Relationships: Elsa/Hans (Disney), Mentions of Anna/Kristoff (Disney)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22





	misfortunes never come singly

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Medieval Music - 'Hardcore' Party Mix](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/609061) by VacnaPaul. 
  * Inspired by [Are You Bored Yet?](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/609067) by Wallows feat. Clairo. 
  * Inspired by [DJ H4N5](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/609070) by Tumblr. 



> Notes 1: This started out as a brief meme but then the same five people kept adding layers and now DJ H4N5 is a running joke in the Helsa server.
> 
> I would like to personally thank this post for starting everything:

**misfortunes never come singly**

* * *

It's Anna's fault.

Also _TikTok_ 's. But mostly Anna's.

Elsa would never have guessed that her baby sister's obsession with a second-rated _Vine_ app would inconvenience her life in any way, but that may be the reason why _everything tipped._

She had her guard down. It was a challenge where a person lip-synched to a song. Only Anna hadn’t told Elsa about the challenge. Hadn’t shoved a phone with its front-facing camera aimed at her face. Anna had recorded Elsa while she was _in the zone_ ; bopping along. It was a normal day.

And then Anna killed the music, expecting Elsa to get a little embarrassed — only, Elsa. didn't. stop. singing. She was too into the moment, sang her heart out. Anna uploaded the video and people liked the fact that Elsa could sing fast and hit the notes; she was said to have a good pair of ‘good Broadway lungs’, whatever that meant. It got some recognition, a lot of nice comments and heart emojis. Elsa didn't think much of it, didn’t dwell because she didn’t need nor want the clout, she hoped to leave it all behind.

Until _this stupid bastard_ on _YouTube_ remixed it and now it's climbing in views and people are making a big deal of it!

Elsa didn’t even know she was internet famous — like most other internet famous people — up til someone at the grocery store burst out into song like they were in a bloody musical, pointed at her like they expected her to finish their sudden duet. She didn't (despite knowing the lyrics). Elsa simply fumbled and walked away flustered, pondering if she was pranked.

Then it happened again. And again. _And again._ Elsa learned to smile, laugh, pretend to have a good time and decline any suggested selfie with an absolute stranger. But now it’s six months later and, according to the remix video’s views and this 13K liked comment saying **Anyone listening in 20XX?** , people haven't _let. it. go._ , so fuck her, right?

Elsa hates _hates_ **hates** this stupid _YouTuber_ man person — DJ H4N5 — yes, that's his name. What is he? A virus? Are his beats _sick_? Does it infect others?

"I feel so responsible!" Anna exclaims, hunched over Elsa's laptop, munching on her lips. "Can't I do something? Get it taken down over copyright claim? Wait, am I the intellectual property owner or the app?" Anna looks at Kristoff.

"You're the one with an account, not me. You’ll have to read the terms and conditions. But I doubt a company like _TikTok_ —" Is _TikTok_ even a company? "— would care about your rights,"

"Wow,"

"I'm being realistic!" Kristoff answers.

"Or cynical." Anna points out.

“It’s —” Elsa shuts her laptop. “— fine.”

“It’s obviously not,” Anna replies.

Okay, yes, she’s miserable with all the attention she’s getting, but it could be worse.

Elsa tucks her laptop under her arm and gets up from the couch. “I’ll just … write him an e-mail and ask him if he can take it down,”

Kristoff raises a brow. “Will he though?”

“I don’t know,” Elsa answers honestly.

She doesn’t know how the _YouTuber_ will react, he seems like a wildcard. Not going to lie, the guy has some successful remixes. Weirdly enough, he’s managed to make songs like _Barbie Girl_ and _Baby Shark_ more addictive. He even uploaded a **ten hour** video which gets new comments almost daily. So he's either extremely talented, has a strange sense of humour, or _is a total crackhead_ — because, who thinks of these things?

“But I’ll try to convince him,” Elsa says, flashing an unconvincing smile at her sister and her sister’s boyfriend, then makes her way upstairs to her bedroom, telling herself that she needed some quiet to figure out how to express her thoughts.

But she never reached out to him, never wrote down a thing. And not just because composing formal e-mails are hard. It’s because she didn't want to speak with him.

She didn't want to ever have the misfortune of crossing paths with him. She didn’t want to think of it. ‘Out of sight, out of mind’, right?

Well, this was her thinking. But then she got invited to her cousin's wedding, and that's when shit went down.

* * *

They recognised each other.

Well, he recognised her first. Then she did a moment later after his DJ name was announced.

He knew her by her face. She's not surprised. He would, on the accounts that he must have looked at her face on hours on end to edit his dumb remix.

But, she didn't know it was _him_ at the time. She just got word from Rapunzel that the damn man, her _arch-nemesis_ , is here at the wedding.

"He's the entertainment? Why?" Elsa remembers asking as she adjusts her bride's maid dress.

Rapunzel's shoulders does a little shimmy as a response. "Eugene's taste in music is odd."

And then there was no time to ask questions because everyone was rushing to the altar; flowers in hand, and best men smiling at the groom and the women and crowd.

There's Aladdin — whom Eugene knew since boyhood when they used to steal things together from under people's noses and proclaim fake identities; "I'm Flynn Rider!"; "You may know me as Ali Ababwa,"

Then there was Johannes, a college roommate of Eugene's. And Naveen whose girlfriend is the caterer. People Elsa didn’t really think she needed to pay attention to, because her head is racing at the thought of the damn DJ and the ceremony at hand, the second reasoning more sound.

Her mind zeroes in on vows being exchanged, the crying, a lot of crying actually, rings, the kiss shared and cheering, and for a moment, Elsa forgets about her irritation.

* * *

When he approaches her, she regards him with confusion, not suspicion.

Because Elsa's grown used to it; moments where somebody wants to talk to €L$A (no, she didn't pick that name for herself, the internet did).

"Hey," He says, after noticing her standing away from the crowd of dancing relatives and friends. He's grinning widely to show off his straight white teeth. "I know you,"

It takes Elsa a moment to absorb this stranger's confidence. Did he mistake her as his blind date? She stares at the redhead.

"You know me from … my sister's _TikTok_?" Elsa asks.

" _YouTube_ ,"

Great ...

"I'm sorry," She says a beat later. "Who are you?"

"Johannes Westergaard. I'm a close friend of the groom —"

Ah. Yes, she recalls his smiling face now.

"— Most people call me 'Hans' —"

Okay.

"— and I'm also the DJ for the wedding."

Elsa blanches, turning sharply to face him. _This_ is DJ H4N5? She almost envisioned him as someone who wears dopey shutter shades (and she has to remind herself that this isn't 2013 anymore) or maybe a shirt with his merch on it, but … he looks smart — dressed in a button-up with his sleeves rolled up, slacks and polished shoes.

She means, well, it's Rapunzel and Eugene's wedding, but _still._

"Oh. _Oh_ , um ... hi?" Elsa says, already feeling awkward. 

Her plan to stand in a corner and sulk is ruined. To be clear, she didn't want a dampened mood at such a joyous occasion, she simply wanted to be alone and away from _him_.

And now he's cornered her!

She’s in the middle of contemplating on what to do with her hands; should she shake his hand all formal-like? Give him a high-five? When an incoming beep makes Elsa jump. 

Hans raises a brow.

"Sorry," Elsa apologises once more. “Just a moment,” She says and pulls out her phone.

 **omg!!** Anna's text reads. **who's that?** **he's cute???**

"Um," Elsa grips her phone like a shield in front of her. "You said you were the DJ? Should you be talking to me while you're working? I wouldn't want to distract you or anything,"

At this point, she isn't even sure if it's a lie, an excuse for him to go away or a true factor. He isn't being very professional. But then again, she doesn't want to care about him.

"Oh, don't worry." Hans says. "I put on a song in the background to keep the guests busy dancing,"

He really wants to continue their chat. And he does, which irritates Elsa. 

She wants to irrationally dislike him. But he’s not very helpful when it comes to earning her mistrust. His language is polite, and he must not know that she hates the popularity that he's put on her shoulders.

At one point, she asks if he was the same person who made the said _YouTube_ video, with the intention of asking him to take it down, but then he mentions that the remix is his most viewed video, and that makes her feel bad. Bad because she knows how the ads in the song helps pay his bills; and she doesn’t know whether to feel sorry for taking away his revenue or to tell him to work on his DJ skills, even if she doesn't care if DJ H4N5 was in the house or not? Why is _she_ the source of his earnings? 

Bro …

Elsa opens her mouth to speak, to confront him once more, until she notices the beat drop. The music is so loud that she feels it vibrate from her feet to her head. How are the old people not complaining about this?

"What song is this?" She asks, trying to gather her courage. And maybe even stalling a little.

"18-century **hardcore** party remix,"

She blinks at him. "I'm sorry, did you say 'hardcore' —?"

Elsa never gets to finish her sentence because the groom steps into the picture, a little drunk and excited to speak to the redhead.

"It was a pleasure talking to you, Elsa."

'Wait!' Elsa wants to say, because she doesn't know if she'll ever have a chance to speak to him again or see him after tonight, 'Please delete your video!'

But then Hans is being swept away by Eugene (because — of course, Eugene would have impeccable timing), and Hans is thanking her again and again (though he's the one who shot her to fame; unwanted fame).

She's left standing alone.

 **who. was. that?** Anna texts chimes.

 **The DJ guy.** Elsa answers, frowning at her screen.

 **ooohhh! \\( ﾟヮﾟ)/** Anna replies, **cool! :)**

 **No, Anna.** **_The_ ** **DJ guy. The one I hate?**

 **oh.** Anna replies. **oh no :(**

* * *

“I got an idea!” Anna says as soon as Elsa steps out of the bathroom and into their shared hotel room. Anna waves her phone to Elsa’s pale face, not letting her sister adjust to the sudden attack.

“Wait, what —!”

“You _have_ to contact him, Elsa! You _have_ to talk some sense into him before he leaves tomorrow!”

“ _Who?_ ” Elsa asks as she struggles to blink at Anna’s phone screen. Why is the brightness on high?

“The DJ guy!” Anna answers, grinning.

Elsa’s face twists in shock. “What do you mean?”

"He's obviously leaving like the rest of the wedding guests tomorrow morning. Try to get a hold of him before he checks out of the hotel." Anna says. "You could do it, confront him and demand him to take the video down.”

“Are you implying I meet him in person to somehow force him to —?”

“Well, ‘force’ is sort of a strong word,”

“I’m not going to confront Hans." Elsa shakes her head. "How am I supposed to even contact him? If anything, Eugene is the only person I know who has Hans' number, and I can't talk to Eugene now. It's his wedding night, he and Punzie are probably busy doing … stuff,"

"Yeah, each other."

" _Anna_ —"

"Okay, let's disregard that. Going back to the Hans thing, weren't you supposed to e-mail him months ago?" Anna points out. "You _have_ his contact info. It's in his _Youtube_ description box thingy. I bet his other socials are linked there too. You can _Tweet_ him if you want to reach him faster and talk more casually."

"But, it's so … it's so sudden," Elsa mutters, unsure.

Anna cocks her head and asks, "So you're not going to meet him?"

"I don't —?” _I don't know._

Elsa opens then closes her mouth. E-mailing didn't work, she doesn't know what other way there is when it comes to handling these sorts of things. It's not like she can call a support number and speak to somebody.

"I'll write the _Tweet_ for you if you don't know what to say." Anna says, already tapping on her screen.

"What good will that do? It'll be so creepy if I just sprung myself on him out of nowhere."

"Then don't be creepy." Anna replies. "You can be formal. Just message him and tell him you're interested in meeting up."

"Don't you think it's sketchy? What if he's dangerous?" Elsa asks, still uncertain and nervous.

"Eugene isn't the time to befriend bad men. Little shits, yeah, but not bad people. It's up to you, Elsa. Hans is only visiting this area, he's not going to be here forever." Anna only says then pats her older sister's shoulder and closes the bathroom door.

* * *

**I expected him to show up in a backward hat and grill glasses for some reason ... He doesn't look like a murderer, but I could be wrong ... Also, I'm judging him on those sideburns ...** Kristoff's text says.

**Stop ending your messages with '...', you sound old.**

**N** **o **...**** Kristoff replies, earning an eye roll from Elsa.

This back-and-forth messaging makes sense because Elsa may or may not have asked Anna and Kristoff to arrive earlier for her meet up with Hans to sit at a booth at a corner and pretend to be on a date; except that they're not and really stalking Elsa on her behalf. Really, it sounds like a bad sitcom episode on a _Disney_ series. All she's missing is leggings under her dress and a laugh soundtrack.

But, anyway, the convincing of this whole ordeal pretty much went like this:

_"Okay, so I know this sounds crazy, but … can you follow me somewhere tomorrow to make sure I don't get kidnapped?"_

_"Elsa ... what? How many glasses of wine did you have?"_ Followed by Kristoff adding, _"Where are we meeting? What time do you want me to be there? And, do I need to bring Sven?"_

And that was that. And now she's sitting across from Hans at a café.

Locking her screen, Elsa tries to concentrate on Hans and her inability to form words. But it’s difficult. She feels like Hans has gotten the wrong impression, he’s dressed better than Eugene was on his wedding day.

"So," Elsa says, flexing her fingers. “I’m gonna get straight to the point — could you please delete the video we talked about at the wedding?”

Hans’ shoulders drop. “Is this what this meeting is about?”

“... Yes?”

Elsa sees hesitation flicker behind his gaze before his posture changes. He’s a little on defence but he mostly looks hurt. “I worked hard on that video,” He says, his voice low.

“I’m not — I’m not disregarding your hard work but I don’t —” Elsa tries to get a word in before there’s any misunderstandings.

“I spent hours listening to your singing while I was editing. I don't think I'll be able to forget your voice for the next decade, you know?”

“Hans, I’m — flattered. But, _please_ , I’m not comfortable with people associating me with those types of songs and I’m not really … _that girl_ ,” Elsa tries to argue, stumbling over her words.

" ‘Those types’? It’s party music, it's fun. I don’t see any harm in it.” Hans tells her. There’s no malice or anger behind his words, he genuinely sounds like he’s trying to convince Elsa that it’s harmless, that it should be something doted on. “You looked like you were having the time of your life while you were singing and dancing in your room."

"I don't — I don't dance. Or sing."

"Really? Because it looked like you were really enjoying yourself when you were singing on camera." He says in a way like he knows her.

"I —" She blushes. "I got lost in the song."

“No, you can definitely sing. I don’t see why you’re hiding it.” 

Then she sees a spark behind his emerald eyes. He holds her gaze for a moment, and she can pin-point the instant the wheels in his head turn. He’s plotting something.

“Say, I’ve got an idea,” He says suddenly, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“Um,” She hums, hoping her shakiness is enough of a cue to tell him she’s not up for it.

“I’ll consider deleting the video I remixed, _if_ you sing with me. Like a collaboration.”

“What? _Why?_ " All this for new revenue? Sequels are never good.

“I've been meaning to work on a new project. I've written a few songs but I need some help. Some vocals." He tells her. "I can do more than a remix. I can sing, and you already know I’m not bad with creating new beats. We could … perform a duet?”

 _Holy shit,_ is he serious? She didn't know whether to diagnose him with clout thirst or not. 

Either way, she isn't sure if she wants to sing with this Hans stranger, even if he has the vocals. Being 'famous' on the internet is scary. What if she gets stalked? Her profile pictures are usually of snowman icons because she doesn't want some weirdo taking one look at her digital face and thinking she's 'the one'. What if they somehow find out where she lives?

“I'm not collaborating with a person who calls themselves 'DJ H4N5',” She tells him and wonders if she sounds too mean.

“Why not? People have worse famous names. You're called '€L$A', you're basically Ke$ha.”

“Kesha changed her name though.”

“She did. I'm glad she's growing as an artist.” He replies. “But we're getting off-topic. I’m trying to think of a way to convince you.” Hans lets out a hum, his expression squeezed. "What if I give you a sample?”

“Of what?”

“My singing,” He says like it’s an obvious answer. 

She waits, wondering if he's going to pull an old school mix-tape or a CD from his pocket or direct her to his _SoundCloud_. But then she realises, "Wait, you mean, you'll sing? Right here? Right now?"

He blinks at her, taken aback by the hint of embarrassment in her tone. "Yeah?"

"At a public space, are you —? _No._ Don't. It'll look like you're serenading me." And this isn't _High School Musical_!

Once again, he stares at her. Emerald eyes drinking her in. Then he bursts into laughter, attempting to hide his chuckle by biting his lip.

She mirrors his concealing by curling her fingers over her own mouth. That doesn't stop her from noticing the way his freckles stood out, he's making such a happy expression. She doesn't know how she managed to make him laugh, she's trying to be serious.

"You're cute," He says, acknowledging the pink of her cheeks.

"I —" She frowns.

"And now you're pouting," Hans points out, not letting her win. "But, anyway, if I can't sing to you. Then, can you come to one of my shows?"

"What?" She asks, then — Oh right, he actually DJs. "I'll … have to check my schedule,"

He beams at her. "Glad to hear that's not an immediate 'no',"

* * *

"I'm serious, I can sing,"

His insistence makes Elsa snort.

She doesn't know why she's still walking beside him now that they've left the café. She should have split the moment they walked out of the double doors; should have given him an awkward wave good-bye and thanked him (for the third time) for paying the bill.

But she's still here. To the outside, it may look like they're an average couple on a date. Though they're not. They're not even holding hands or anything — his are buried deep in his pants pockets and hers are clutched onto her purse.

This is ridiculous, and _not a date_. She was the one who e-mailed him and coerced him to meet her; set the venue and time and date . She's the one leading today's event.

 _This is so dumb, I came to get the video taken down, not find a boyfriend_ . Elsa thinks. Though, she suspects if she were to say this outloud, Anna would squeal at the romantic twist and Kristoff would have told her, _"I don't see why you can't have both."_

"You're dead set on singing to me, huh?" She asks.

He sends a smile her way, then she catches the glee on his face. What is going on in his head —?

"Hey, I've heard of this place," He says, taking her hand unexpectedly and guiding her to an experimental looking restaurant.

 _Oh God, please no. Please be for laughs_. She thinks as she stunely follows him.

"But we just had coffee," Elsa tells him.

Hans lets out a long chuckle. "We did," He says, pushing the door open. "But we didn't eat, did we? And I'm starving."

Oh no.

* * *

According to _Yelp_ , this eatery is a five star place. According to _Yelp_ , the staff are nice. According to _Yelp_ , this place has a stage and a karaoke machine.

Did he drag her here to discuss do that stupid duet he talked about earlier? Or did he drag her here to humiliate her? He’s already on stage!

Where are Kristoff and Anna? Do they think she's kidnapped? If she could just slyly text under the table without being too obvious —

Then Hans pulls out a worn microphone (Where did that come from? His back pocket? Why is he casually carrying that around? Who does that?), one that's likely used for his own recording, and points to her.

She screams internally, and he talks into the device.

“HeLlO,”

It's … awful. He sounded awful. Is that an auto-tuned microphone?

"I'm kidding," He says playfully when the restaurant is close to a riot. "I just wanted you to know I have a sense of humour."

Elsa's pretty sure creating ‘18-century hardcore party remix’ is enough to prove that! She's _this close_ to punching him.

"But I will sing though, with the normal mic." Hans says, still grinning cheekily.

.

.

.

The thought of _Oh, he’s good!_ repeats in her head the entire time he sang — his voice is calm and steady. His high note came with the realisation that he was talented, that he enjoys what he does, and that he's probably the embodiment of ‘if you do something you love you'll never work a day in your life’. He’s really found his calling, his own place.

Elsa’s a little embarrassed to say she really got into it, swaying along to the beat and smiling at him.

Then her phone buzzes, and Anna's text reads: **the hotel called, they want us to check-out NOW.**

 **Now?** Elsa stares at her screen. Should she go? Leave Hans in the middle of whatever this is?

 **we packed everything up this morning, so all i need to do is load it up in Kristoff's car, right?** Anna replies.

 **Well, yes, but …** Elsa types then asks, **What about Hans' stuff?**

**dj dude? ye, i asked the receptionist, the hotel staff really shouldn't be giving out details so freely, but i think they know that most of the guests are friends or related to Eugene and Punzie, so yeah — i asked, and the receptionist said he checked out this morning. i guess his luggage is in the trunk of his own car or smthg ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯**

**So should I go with you, or … ?** Elsa asks, chewing on her bottom lip. She hates being rushed into anything. Planning is her thing.

 **well, it depends. i can handle everything, but,** Anna answers. **do you want to stay?**

Elsa blinks at her phone. Does she?

"Elsa?" 

She lifts her head, startled. She sees Hans waving at her, gesturing for her to join her on stage.

No, she can’t. Elsa clutches onto her phone harder and shakes her head to tell him so, expecting to steal the happiness off his face.

But he’s still grinning, still staring at her with gold in his eyes. “This is our song,” He says, his voice echoing across the room.

 _What?_ She thinks, since when? Do they even know each other well enough to have ‘a song’ together? She should deny, be firm.

But the audience, the people at the restaurant, they starts chiming in, muttering words of encouragement and clapping in an excited manner to try to persuade her to join Hans. 

"Come on!"

"It'll be fun!"

"Sing with him!"

It’s exactly like _High School Musical_ , what has her life become?

What if she did go up there and someone recognised her and recorded the event? The last thing she wants is more recognition.

She's uncertain, a little torn.

Her blue eyes look at the ground, at her shoes, then at her phone still in her hands. Then she gazes upwards. She looks at him, _really looks at him_ , his palm still outstretched, grin still inviting, green eyes brimming with mischief and mirth.

.

.

.

"Okay, so, guys?" Hans says to the crowd. "This lovely lady agrees she'll sing with me, but there's a condition to it, and she hopes you guys will stay true to it." Hans sweeps a hand to Elsa. "She's a bit shy, so if everyone could respect her privacy and not record our little moment nor post it to any social media, that would be appreciated."

The crowd shouts back their answers, agreeing and putting away their phones.

With her fingers nervously clutching onto the hem of her dress and her head tipped slightly down, Elsa manages a small smile at the niceties. She doesn't know how to feel about this, she loves singing but her heart is hammering in her chest. She was so unsure on whether or not to join Hans on stage that she had to whisper in Hans' ear about the conditions of her issue with the audience.

 _“I’m … afraid of losing her voice.”_ She had said. _“I don’t like attention.”_ Then Hans had looked at her and asked, _“You don’t?”_ as if shocked.

"You okay?" His deep tone pulls her out of her small spike of anxiety.

"I guess." Elsa answers, unconvincingly. Then corrects herself, "Nervous,"

"You can stop if you hate it," Hans tells her, meaning it.

"I won't hate it," Elsa promises.

Then, just to prove her point, she reaches over and starts the karaoke machine without even pausing to think, _Do I know the lyrics?_ But when the music started, she _knew_.

Oh God, it's the song that launched her to fame. 

“Oh, wow,” She says, more to herself than anything. “This _is_ our song.” _Fuck!_

* * *

Her singing is beautiful.

But her body language is all wrong, rod-straight, hands clutching onto the mic stand too tightly. 

It isn’t until Hans reaches out with his free hand to pluck the microphone off the stand does her posture change, from stiff to relax, swaying with the beat of the music and the tone of their singing.

The corners of his mouth dimples, he knows exactly what he's doing, and she thinks a part of her likes him for that, for knowing what he wants and for following his heart.

* * *

Whoever yelled "It'll be fun!" earlier was right.

 _This_ is fun. She hasn't had this much fun in a while. She hasn't thought of singing as an enjoyable pastime since _TikTok_ conditioned her to think of herself as other people's entertainment.

Why did she let herself believe she’s just a one-know one-hit wonder for a stupid app? She's more than that, damn it!

* * *

"I may have gotten carried away," He laughs after hogging the karaoke machine for four songs straight, collapsing into their seats.

"What? No, you did great!" Elsa says, trying to sound jubilant and reassuring, but her voice is dry for all that singing, she sips her glass of water.

"No, not the singing, the remix," Hans corrects her. 

Elsa's face drops and she puts down her drink. Oh. Oh yeah, she forgot!

"I was being selfish."

"Hans —"

"No, I was. I think pride got to me. I never would have imagined you to reach out to me, and when you did, I … I don't know. I felt recognised. But then you told me you wanted it taken down and my heart sank a little." Hans confesses. "I honestly didn't know if I even wanted, or would have considered, taking down the video. But … before we sang together, you told me to make that announcement about your privacy. You could have told the crowd yourself, it was your right to express yourself, but you pulled me aside and told me to tell them — and I think I understood after that. No, I definitely understand. You don't want any attention. You're a private person. I'm sorry, I just … I was inspired." 

"Inspired?" Elsa echoes.

Hans nods.

Elsa's face scrunches up. "I don't know what to think."

All this time, Elsa's been afraid weirdos on the internet would find her attractive, but never once did she think her singing would brighten up somebody's day, much less inspire them.

"I'll delete the video now." Hans says, pulling out his phone.

_What?_

"Wait, no." Elsa reaches out, stopping him. "What if —? What if we compromise?"

This time, Hans is the one making a confused expression.

"You don't have to erase your hard work's existence forever." Elsa says, the words rushing out of her mouth, her thoughts coming as quickly as she can keep them. "Re-upload it. Keep the song, but change the background of the video for my privacy's sake. You can make up an excuse to why the video got taken down, copyright claim over the video or something. People forget faces all the time. Anna's already deleted her _TikTok_ video. It'll be easy."

He smiles at her, "Okay," Then he nods and his voice ups itself with more determination, "Okay. So we'll sing together?"

"Yes, like we did today." Elsa confirms, then feels some boldness creeping up on her. "And I'll — I'll come to one of your shows,"

"You will? I was joking. _Why?_ "

"Why not? Your talented, I'll bring my sister and my friends and we'll have a good time,"

He lets out another laugh, eyes crinkling with amusement. "Well then, I hope I don't make a fool of myself."

* * *

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Notes 2: The amount of crackhead energy astounds me. It's decided that Anna has TikTok in all my modern AUs and nobody can say otherwise.  
> I actually tried to sign up an account as 'DJ H4N5' for funsies and somebody already took that name, so now I'm just wondering who the hell is out there being a real-life DJ H4N5??
> 
> Notes 3: There's a glimpse of our madness —
> 
> — 21 April 2020


End file.
